Loving in Darkness
by mishy-mo
Summary: Based on a sonnet by Pablo Neruda. Chapter 5 now up. There is an answer but is it the one Jack wantsSeason 8 spoilers Affinity
1. The secret of his heart

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,  
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.  
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,  
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

Pablo Neruda

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In the small hours of the morning, the darkness of the SGC seeped through corridors; spreading from room to room until reaching the office of the base commander. The time thus far going unnoticed by the man engrossed in mountain of paperwork. Jack O'Neill was a man with a reputation, one that he had to up hold so while the SGC bustled with the scientists, linguists and military personnel he dogged everything that ever used to resemble a tree. This arrangement however left very little time for the man to complete his duties as the commander of the world's biggest secret, in fact the only time it left was late at night when mostly everyone had gone home. Very few people knew how quickly Jack could get through a stack of paperwork, but his reputation remained thanks to sleepless nights and the people he would call close friends even family upholding his secret.

With a sigh he signed the last dotted line on a request for better quality toilet paper completing a forests worth of forms and requests that now filled his out tray. Switching off his desk lamp the small room was plunged into a ghostly luminescence that came from the sparse lighting in the halls, a futile attempt to save on the SGC's large electricity bill.

Maybe I could have a hydro electrics station built or have Carter come up with a Naquadah power station. He thought closing the door to his office.

Yawning he crossed the briefing room heading for the stairwell; Sergeant Harriman was on the graveyard shift, and as Jack's temporary assistant (even though Jack could never think of anyone better to do the job) he took it upon himself to make the guy's work a little easier to make up for the undoubted future snappiness which he would one day be subjected to from his tired, stressed, old and cranky boss.

He nodded to the man before heading for the coffee pot at the back of the room, filling a cup for himself and the sergeant. It had become somewhat of a tradition, the sergeant would be waiting by the elevator with his coffee in the morning but at night it was Jack's job to get the coffee for his assistant. There was no doubt Jack was the man, but the simple act of returning a good gesture made him feel … well grounded. Handing the man his coffee, the very substance that would be needed for him to stay awake until his shift was finished a whole eight hours away.

'Anything happening?' he asked the man in front of him who was far to awake for 1.30 in the morning.

'No, Sir nothing to report.' He replied curtly, looking his superior in the eye before turning back to his ever-changing display on screen.

'Right, I see you later then.'

'Good night, Sir.'

'Good morning sergeant.'

And with that he left him to do what ever he did to keep the stargate going smoothly.

With his coffee in hand his feet slipped into autopilot guiding him with ease through the vast maze of corridors that made the SGC. Finishing the coffee that would keep him alive just long enough to drive home and collapse into bed, he found himself heading down the corridor with led to one Lt. Colonel Carter's lab.

It wasn't so strange that his feet had led him there.

Whenever he was tired and he wasn't careful his subconscious took over it would always bring him to her.

It was his subconscious that he usually managed to curb, the part of him that noticed the way she did her calculations going down the page like some newspaper column, a confusing array of symbols and numbers of which only she could make sense. The part that liked the way she bit her lip when she was nervous, the part that loved the way she smiled, and the feeling when he was the one to put it there.

Figuring since he was already there he tapped lightly on the door before walking in.

The room was in darkness, the small arc of light from the open door illuminating instruments left abandoned on the large table.

The absence of her presence did not go unnoticed by his subconscious, and neither by his conscious.

His eyebrows fell into a frown, chest deflating, as his insides suddenly felt empty.

She wasn't there.

Things had changed.

For the first time it truly hit him, his Sam would no longer be there when ever he needed her, whenever his subconscious demanded attention, whenever he needed saving. She had a life now, one that she went home to, and one that she left her work abandoned on the table for.

Jack moved further into the room taking his seat trying to fill some emptiness with remnants of her left be hind by her work, but it wasn't good enough. Everything was alien to him, the doohickeys and the lack of her presence.

Something was crushed inside him.

But she didn't know.

She would never know.

Because she had a life.

Because she had Pete.

It had been her decision to leave it in the room and true to her word that is where she left it, but Jack just couldn't. Those feelings already embedded deep in a place that he had once forgotten, in place that could not be kept within walls of concrete for it was in his very soul and went everywhere with him since that day and even before.

But despite the empty cavity that was now in his chest, despite the pain and hurt those feelings had brought him over the years, they would not just wait in a room, a single burning fire in his heart that would never go out.

So in the shadows of the room he sat and let his subconscious do in the confines of darkness what it wanted to do on top of the mountain and scream from the rooftops.

The secret of his heart.


	2. The secret of his darkness

I love you as the plant that never blooms  
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;  
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,  
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

Paulo Neruda

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Despite the cries of his heart, the once black hole that filled his chest, his mind ruled out all hope of it's wants and needs being answered to.

Sam was the untouchable.

The thing he could never have.

The person with whom he could never be.

In the beginning it had been the regulations, the simple mentality that it was a line they could never cross within their line of work. But as the darkness surrounded him, allowing his thoughts to drift further than he'd imagined, he realised that something else was holding them back. It wasn't just about regulations or the world, but what they had become while holding back. The effortless comfort they felt in each other's presence, the precious friendship they had developed over the years. During the development of such a treasured thing, Jack noticed whenever things got too personal, unease would sneak it's way into their 'relationship'; silences would be uncomfortable, the air tightening around them, something so necessary taking on a sinister aura, one that threatened to crush at any moment. Soon enough though, it would pass, the silences became comfortable, the smiles returned and his subconscious would soar as high as was allowed, like some lighter-than-air-craft towed down by the weight of reality and reason. How he wished he could release this burden and soar above the lowly world of work and rule.

Whenever he was with her he changed. He found that he could forget; forget the terrible things that had happened in his life, forget the terrible things he'd done, the terrible person he sometimes was. Her smile spread warmth into his heart, made his blood flood though his veins, made him feel alive. Sometimes when her smile was brightest and her eyes alight he found himself close to something that he never felt possible; close to forgiving.

Forgiving himself for his blackened past that haunted him all these years.

He was unsure how he found himself close to this. But something in her, made him change, made his life change.

Made his existence life.

But his life came and went with her. She was some unpredictable Moon that brought the tide over his past, hiding it deep under the great sea, it's hypnotic movement controlled only by her. She had a power over him, over the tide of his life.

She could make him the man he'd always wanted to be, the man with troubles forgotten, and if not forgotten, the beacon of life from the shining moon would guide him until dawn and those dark figures of the past became ghosts in the bright luminescence of the Sun.

She was the Sun and the Moon.

The thing he could never reach.

The person he could never be.

But in the darkness, as the night closed around him and sleep came fitfully to his eyes, the ballast of his subconscious was thrown with pace left in reality as the craft climbed steadily to it's place in the sky, where the Sun and Moon would greet him equally as one.

In his dreams his subconscious ruled. Wants and needs fulfilled in those few hours, which broke up the regularity of the day.

In his dreams the Sun and Moon where constant and ever standing beside him.

In his dreams she was reachable, she was his, and because of her he was the man he wanted to be.

For her he was the man he wanted to be.

It was the very fact that all these things where improbable in reality that made his dreams so sweet.

The tantalising closeness of it all, and yet the very fact that it was all so far away and so unknown.

Hope was needed though.

The hope, that one-day his dreams would come true.

Hope was the very thing that fuelled the fire of his heart.

He seen the hope reflected in her, in her eyes.

Looking closer he seen the fire, swelling out towards him desperate to mingle and burn with his own.

Even now; when all hope seemed lost, when she seemed lost to him; it was there.

The eclipsed light of which the great corona could still be seen.

There was something that remained whether she knew of it or not.

This constant light, visible or not, was the base of his dreams, the solid foundation on which anything could be built. This very fact that let him cast off his worries, the reality and the rules letting his subconscious free to float to its rightful place among the stars.

The secret of his darkness.

At some point during the night, during his thoughts he was disturbed by a noise in the hall.

His eyes slid to focus on the dark empty room around him.

It was now 2.15am.

The illumination of his watch shrinking his pupils at once, causing his eyes to blink furiously amongst the din of darkness.

He had gone far beyond the rejuvenating powers of the coffee, but for some reason (of only which his subconscious knew) he felt beyond the need of sleep knowing that it would not come to him in the night.

Staring round the desolate room he watched the lights on various thing wink slowly at him, as if not bothering to make any effort.

Jack could have sworn that the lights flashed faster during the day.

Disappointed in the light show though sympathising with the lights in the strangest way, thinking that what was the point when she wasn't around, he left.

Left the lights that blinked sluggishly without her.

Left the alien devices (some of which where made on earth.)

Left the alien emptiness that had been a midnight sanctuary for his subconscious.

Home came closer to him, fast at first then slower as the driveway shortened. The house was empty. Worse, it was lifeless.

Inside no one dwelled and no one lived; it was a mere shell in which there was no life.

Stepping inside, not bothering to lock the door behind, he headed straight for his liquor cabinet. Though he had work to go to in just 5 hours, though his better judgement was against it he poured himself a stiff drink once settled deep in the couch.

Saluting the moon through his window, he drank to fill the darkness, to bring on the dreams, and burn through the ropes that held them to reality.


	3. The constant of his heart

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.  
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;  
so I love you because I know no other way

Pablo Neruda

-----------------------

The early morning sun shone timidly through the window, casting the long shadows of the coffee table and the half finished bottle of whiskey that rested upon it. During the first few moments of the new day, the shimmering light came to rest on his face, waking him easily with a slight shudder, his experienced body making light work of the cheap whiskey he drank not hours ago. His eyes fell heavily on his nighttime companion that sat before his, though the twists of the glass that made it, he could see a distorted vision of time; the clock on his VCR reading 07.00. Staring into middle-distance he tried desperately not to think of why he had reached for his trusty bottle last night, before he stood from his four hour resting place on his couch.

He stretched with satisfaction, working the kinks from his back, before making his way stiffly towards his bedroom, where his bed laid untouched.

He glanced towards the clean sheets pulled taught over the firm mattress; exactly how he'd left it 4 days ago.

In the last four days it had remained deserted, no one seeking refuge within its depths.

On the first night, Jack spend the night hours within the confines of the base, remaining sleepless past 36 hours just waiting for the return of his team, and when he did finally come home it was his couch that provided the refuge for his tired limbs. Harbouring him for those few precious hours before daylight returned.

Though his body began whining and creaking in places he never knew existed, the stiffness almost demanding a few more hours of blissful black slumber, he took to his shower, praying the hot water would silence his muscles and awaken his mind.

As the steaming water made soothing work of his muscles, and the dim light that shone through the curtain allowed his eyes rest, he found that his mind was still half asleep and so with little effort he's dreams filled his mind once more.

There where several things he knew about the situation and many that he didn't.

He loved Samantha Carter.

That much was clear, but looking back over the years since she had come into his life he couldn't figure out when it happened.

There was no one incident that flicked the switch in his head that made him know that she was the only one. But no one was more surprised than him when on separate sides of a force field some 5 years ago, the feeling which his subconscious had been harbouring for sometime, hit him with such force than the only thing that stopped him from passing out was the fact that he could lose her at any moment.

It shocked him that even though his heart was some black place covered in deep scars that were reminders of the past, she had somehow managed to find a way in, find a way to make his blood run faster and hotter whenever she was near.

However such things as how and when are best left as great mysteries that make the alluring nature of the woman he loved.

I love Samantha Carter.

It was just four words, four words.

The fact that he loved her was one of the simplest things in his life. A never wavering constant that was buried deep within his heart. It was elementary; it was only the situation that was complicated. Complicated enough to make he's dreams unobtainable.

He loved Samantha Carter.

And he could tell no one.

It was one of those overwhelming and not so funny ironies of life; the fact that the very thing that you want to shout from the roof tops is the only thing that your not allowed to say.

Not being recognised as part of the 9 time saviours of the world paled in comparison to not being recognised for loving such an amazing woman.

It was the greatest secret of Jack O'Neill within the greatest secret of the world.

He loved Samantha Carter.

He wasn't sure how or when it cam to him. He could never act on it. He could never tell of it.

But he could never imagine himself living without it.

With that thought he shut the comforting stream of water off and stepped from the shower.

As he put on his uniform, the military persona returned, and with it the constant of his heart was hidden beneath the two silver plates that read;

Brig. Gen. J. O'Neill


	4. Wait for me

Two weeks later…

It was her engagement party.

And it was tonight.

And he was still in his office, hiding beneath the paper work.

Despite the subconscious taking over just those few weeks ago, the next day when she had sprung the ring and the 'What about you?' question on him, he didn't know what to say. Staring blankly ahead for a moment trying to make the slightest sense of the situation and the words that came from her mouth, that somehow seemed jumbled since she put the little velvet box on the table.

He should have brought a little black velvet box to the table long ago but the thought of losing a fantastic friendship and the regulations made him hesitate.

He was waiting.

Waiting for the war to end, waiting for him to get kicked out, retire; just anything to make the situation simpler.

Well, it was simpler.

The simple fact was that she wasn't waiting any more.

There was a quiet knock on his door.

'Come in.' he said almost relived to have something to distract him from his thoughts…and paperwork obviously.

Samantha Carter walked in almost timidly.

'Are you coming?' she said.

She wanted him to go to the engagement party, she wanted him to go to the wedding, and because it was she who asked, he would do it.

He would do it in a heartbeat.

He would do it over and over again on the slight chance it might make her happy.

But not before he asked one thing.

'Will you wait for me?' He said simply, though something deep within his eyes revealed that this simple sentence meant more than it first appeared.

'Sure. If you're not…' she said brightly.

'No…' he interrupted shortly, before his tone became soft and barely audible. ' Will you wait for me?'

'Sir?' she said questioningly, unsure of his meaning.

'I have waited.' He said looking her directly in the eye, hurt evident in his own. 'Painstakingly and patiently I've waited, for almost 6 years.'

Realisation hit with about the same force as a sledgehammer, Sam was completely taken aback.

'Did you give up? Did you get tired of waiting?' He spoke his voice full of emotion and threatening to break with all the years worth of hurt and love that was forcing it's way to the surface.

She closed her eyes for a moment, though trying to hold back tears or simply wishing the entire situation away.

'It's not that simple.'

'But it is.' He said with complete sincerity.

'Well, it's not enough.' She said, her own emotions threatening to overwhelm.

'We said enough 4 years ago.'

'Things change, Jack.'

The 'sir' was neglected at this point; this isn't the conversation you have with your superior officer.

'We've changed' she continued, trying to convince her own heart.

'Have we really? Change is something I know a lot about. One week I had a life, I had a family; next thing I know, I had absolutely nothing and I was going on some suicide mission. It ripped my heart out and hurt like hell, I just can't go through that again, but trust me Sam when I say this hurts almost as much. That mission, the one where I thought I'd end my life, it changed me. I still couldn't live with myself but the task of merely existing didn't seem to hard. Then a year later I get called back up to the SGC. I changed again; SG-1 now gave my existence meaning, now I had a reason to be alive. But you Sam, somehow along the line you changed my existence into life.'

His eyes shone brightly with love and affection, and although his heart could continue to speak until the end of time, his head demanded and answer.

'Will you wait for me?'


	5. No Dreams

that this: where I does not exist, nor you,  
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,  
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda

------------------------------------------------

No Dreams

Something around him changed, stirring him from his slumber. The years of special ops training, the time that honed his senses, was not forgotten, and his senses where just as sharp; despite the dust that had settled into them since getting a desk job and in the relative safety of his home they would not switch off.

A few years ago he remembered hearing the smoke alarm of his neighbours half way through the night. Though he never admitted it was him, there was a brave and strong stranger that ran into the building to rouse the CO2 poisoned parents and grab the two small children, the back up arriving (i.e. firemen and paramedics) he slipped into the night from whence he came. The family survived because of such a stranger, unable to recall the likes of the man that saved their lives through the smoke that clouded their mind and blurred their vision.

Thinking back to one of those nights when a brave and strong stranger went about helping people, he decided a late night wake up call was a small price to pay for having finely tuned senses.

Saving people was what he did.

Since in the service of his country that was the prime goal of his career; save people.

And he managed it; otherwise he wouldn't be here.

But no matter how many times he saved the world whether as part of SG-1 or the commander of the SGC there where some he could not save, some he could not be there for.

Doc.

Kawalskey

Charlie.

And countless others.

They all weighed down on him, each name and face unforgettable in his mind, as though the scars of the white-hot pokers that etched them in his mind.

No amount of saving could make up for their deaths, but he continued.

Continued to make them proud, to carry on the fight, to cheat the very thing that had taken such precious people from him.

To delay death for others.

And so he continued to step lightly from his bed, throwing the covers dismissively onto the empty half of his bed. He prowled with precision towards the door of his room.

There was very little sound.

The air-conditioned hummed contentedly, the faint sound of late night truckers on the highway a quarter mile away drawling past, and a steady drip of a tap left abandoned from a previous night time visit.

But something wasn't right.

Something never feels right when you wake up in the middle of the night.

Like some in-built paranoia of life; a disturbed slumber and eerie silence make for an uneasy combination.

Toes splayed in the think carpet, he took a moment to let his waking eyes to adjust to the modest light that filled the hall, before padding softly towards the living room.

Everything was just as he left it; the last beer bottle a dibble of foam lingering at the bottom, the cushions on the sofa still held his imprint from four hours ago.

Everything was normal, but it was still quiet and the uneasiness of the night crept slowly into Jack's heart.

Something was …different.

Before he had time to figure out what it was his 'spider senses' where trying to tell him, there was a brief flash of lights and the soft purr of a engine as a car pulled into his drive.

Reacting quickly he slipped into the shadows in a joining room so as not to be seen.

Light footsteps made quick work of the stairs before they came to the door.

The lock shuddered and opened, letting the night time visitor into the darkness of the hall, cloaked by darkness Jack could not make the identity of the visitor, but something made him wait, made him watch.

He watched as they moved purposefully deeper into the house, bypassing all the good stuff like DVD player and wide screen TV, supposedly heading for the bedroom.

They moved with stealth that even given the situation Jack took a second to admire, had he not woken up just moments ago he would doubt whether he would have woken.

Jack followed as the visitor neared his room.

Once reaching their 'goal' they just stood there in the threshold, not moving in the slightest.

A minute passed by.

And Jack could not take another.

'What you looking for?' said Jack gruffly.

She screamed in fright jumping and turning at the same time to be faced with a grave looking sleep-deprived man.

But she couldn't answer.

And he had nothing more to say, as shock to over him; his heart flipping at the sight of her and rooting him to the spot.

Another minute passed by.

'You.' She said specking finally. 'I was looking for you.'

'I guessed.' He said quietly. 'Why?'

'To tell you I can't wait.'

'Ah, so you don't think I got that answer from the way you ran out my office like a bat outa hell?' he said his usual sarcasm still surrounding his words even at 03.00.

'I can't wait for you Jack, but …'

'Oh so there's a 'but' is there? I take it that's why you're here, breaking an entering at 3am.' He said anger slipping into his voice, a few decibels from shouting, all trace of shock now gone from his system.

'Yes, and I wasn't breaking an entering cos you gave me a key,' she said holding it out as evidence.

'I think I'll have that back.' He said taking it from her in one swift movement.

'Fine,' she said in finalizing tone, but she made no move to leave.

'So you gonna stand there 'til dawn or you got something to say?'

'I can't wait,'

'I know…'he interrupted.

'Cos I want it now.' She spoke over him.

'..this…' he stopped abruptly. 'Pete?' he said now his voice barely audible.

'Sent packing, sad thing is it didn't take that long, I think he knew it was coming.' She said fiddling with her now bare ring finger where 'diamond de Pete' had set up camp for two weeks.

'Sam, what about…'

'Jack.' She said sincerely holding his gaze, 'You said it was simple, and when you look at it, when you look into you heart it is.'

He smiled softly.

'I love you, it's one simple thing that has been in my heart for years and though I may have ignored it, tried to push it away it's always been there.' She looked to the ground slightly embarrassed, and unsettled at his continued quiet.

'I love you.' he said simply.

Nothing existed, not the stars in the sky, not the rules they lived by, it was just them.

No longer being distinguished as two separate people, they where one.

The shining example of true love in its purest form.

No more words where needed, enough had been said, only not enough being done.

With an undeniable unity they settled into each other's arms, revelling in the sheer joy of being with the one you love.

Fingers entwined, her head resting on his shoulder, together they fell in to a calm sleep where there was no darkness, and no dreams were needed because the real thing would be by their side in the waking hours of the day.

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hey well there you go that's it

if you want to read a fic that could proceed this check out 'waking 

strange thing I wrote this before I even got the idea for 'Loving in Darkness'

aww well I guess that's just how it goes.

Mishy mo

xxxxxxx


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